Run Run Run
by Nicoley117-TheBlueMartini
Summary: Mary runs off to Scotland with Condé, but returns to France when she learns that Francis has been gravely injured. Takes place around 2x15/2x16. OneShot. Frary.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Reign_...if I did, there wouldn't be so much Frary heartache!

**A/N:** So I originally penned this fic before episode 2x16, but then incorporated some little things from 2x16, so we're just going to say this takes place around 2x15 and 2x16, haha. Also, regarding Condé's story in here, I didn't incorporate what happened in that last scene of 2x16 because that bit is still a mystery to me. I can't figure out his true intentions on the show...but for this fic's purposes, I believe he honestly loves Mary.

Anyways, this oneshot is my attempt to repair Frary! The _Reign _writers have basically been continuously ripping out our hearts, throwing them on the ground, and stomping on them. I just want them to be reunited so badly that I had to write something! I hope you enjoy it :)

* * *

Unable to sleep, she decided to step outside for a few minutes, going through the doors from her chambers to the balcony. She longed to feel the cool air rush against her skin and hoped the wind would take away the memories that haunted her and prevented her from sleeping. As she looked out over Scotland in the the darkness, she found that the fresh air was not helping as her last encounter with Francis from a few weeks ago continued to flood back to her:

"_I'm going back to Scotland tomorrow," she calmly told him as she fidgeted with her hands, unsure of how he would react. She had told him a few days ago how she hoped to go back, but she probably surprised him that it would be so soon. _

_His face was solemn and he immediately turned away from her. Leaning his hands against the top of his desk, Francis remained silent._

_The worst part was what she was going to tell him next. She wanted to be honest with him, despite knowing how much it would hurt him, but he had to know and hear it from her. "Condé is going with me."_

_His back was still facing her, but she could see his body tense. He didn't say a word for a few moments, but after he took a deep breath, he finally turned to face her again. _

"_I have tried my hardest to give you the time and space you need...I have attempted to please you, to help you, to show you how much I love you... But clearly, that isn't enough for you. _

_A year ago, you left me, ran away with Bash after learning of that silly prophecy. And then when you returned, it was I who was forced to leave when you left me with absolutely nothing here at court. You took away my birthright, my title, my life, and you tried to extinguish my love for you. But we eventually made amends and I forgave you. _

_Now, here you are again. You continuously reject me and my love for you. You don't seem to believe we can get past these rough patches nor willing to work through them together. So again you're leaving me with another man and again, you're breaking my heart," he said with increasing anger._

_He took another deep breath._

"_I want nothing more for you than to be happy," he continued more calmly as he took her hands in his. "I permitted you to be with Condé since it was the only thing you've wanted from me lately despite how much it completely tortures me. Although I do not agree with your decision to leave for Scotland..." he paused and sighed. "I know this is what you want and if I force you to stay in France, you'll only resent me even more. _

"_And perhaps it is for the best that you leave, because I'm not sure how much longer I can take you tearing my heart apart," he finished sadly and let go of her hands. _

_Feeling stunned at his words, Mary couldn't find a way to respond. _

"_Goodbye, Mary. I hope you make it there safely. I won't be able to see you off because I'm not sure I can take the pain of seeing you run away from me again," he said dejectedly before walking out of the room. _

That was the last time she saw him. She had expected him to beg her not to go or forbid it altogether. But he actually told her to go…

And so the next day, she left with Condé in secret. She did tell Kenna and Lola about her plans to head back to Scotland, but they didn't seem to understand nor were they very supportive of her decision. Her and Condé rode their horses to northern France and boarded a ship to Scotland. They arrived safely a week ago, where they found the country in a state of rebellion.

So far, it had been difficult for her to settle into her role as a true queen of Scotland. She had been at French court for so long, she never fully comprehended the political situation of her own country.

And despite her attempts to devote all her time and energy to her queenly duties, she couldn't stop her mind from drifting off to thoughts of Francis. She remembered when the two of them had to work together in dealing with political issues in France. Here in Scotland, it was hard to rely on her sickly mother, her infuriatingly difficult brother, and Louis, who has never ruled a country. At times, she felt so alone in her role as queen. It was in those moments especially that she couldn't help but wonder what Francis was doing, how he was feeling, what troubles had arisen at French court that he was currently dealing with…

Suddenly, she felt someone's hands wrap around her waist from behind her, causing her body to stiffen. She looked up and saw that it was Condé who was holding her.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked her softly as he pulled her back to rest against his chest.

"I couldn't sleep so I came outside for some air," Mary quietly replied before a yawn escaped her lips. "But I think I'm ready to go back inside."

Condé gently took her hand and led her back to her bed, where he laid down beside her.

"Goodnight Mary," he said before he kissed her.

On their journey to Scotland, the two did share occasional kisses but nothing more than that. However, Mary still didn't feel completely at ease sharing such intimate moments with a man, despite trying her best to deny it. She had hoped these fears would vanish after leaving France and Francis but so far...they hadn't.

XxxxxxxxxX

He couldn't stop thinking about her. His last conversation with Mary replayed in Francis' head over and over again.

When she first announced to him that she was thinking of going back to Scotland, he thought he would have had more time to convince her not to go and that her mind would have already changed by the time she was able to find a safe journey there. But days later, she was already ready to go.

Hearing that she was officially leaving hurt him, but then listening to her tell him she was leaving with Condé was like a dagger plunged into his heart.

He knew he made mistakes...grave mistakes that he could never take back. But he thought, in time, they would grow past their mistakes together and form a union stronger than ever before. He knew she needed time and he was willing to wait. However, it looked like she wasn't patient enough. She wanted to stop being afraid, and to her that meant leaving him altogether and trying to start a romance with someone new.

But despite everything she had done, he still loved her more than anything. He hoped she made it safely to Scotland and he hoped she could finally feel free and happy, even if that meant a life without him. His last words to her were somewhat cruel and he almost regretted them...but she had to know how her words and actions affected him.

She made her choice and it killed him on the inside. But now he had to start thinking about protecting his own heart, which meant trying to distance her from his mind.

He decided it was the perfect day to go hunting with Bash as a way to distract himself.

XxxxxxxxxX

She was having a nightmare again.

Condé felt Mary toss and turn beside him and was stirred awake when he heard her talking in her sleep.

"No, no get away from me!" she said as she trembled.

He knew he had to be extremely cautious when waking her since she would be easily frightened by his touch while having such a nightmare. He was about to place his hand upon her back to wake her, but stopped himself when he heard her next words:

"Francis, where are you?" she asked worriedly. "Francis, I need you."

Hearing those words hurt him. He didn't understand why she still cared for Francis especially since he was the reason she was attacked and why she had been having these terrible dreams.

But he knew she needed time, and he convinced himself that she would eventually forget about Francis. He went ahead and gently shook her awake.

XxxxxxxxxX

Mary was in her chamber, dressing for the day. As she was brushing her hair, a servant knocked on her door. After being granted entry, he walked into the room with a letter on a platter.

"Your majesty," he said as he bowed before her. "There is an urgent message for you from France."

"From France?" Mary asked in bewilderment. She hadn't heard from Francis at all since she had left and she didn't expect to. She eagerly took the letter. Upon opening it, she saw it wasn't Francis' scrawl, but Catherine's handwriting.

_Dear Mary,_

_I know it must be a shock to hear from me but I thought you should know that Francis is gravely ill. He was out hunting when a man shot him with a poisoned arrow. The physicians aren't sure if they can help him. He could pass any day now. _

_Since you are still his wife and I know you loved him once, I felt you had a right to know._

_-Catherine_

As soon as she read the last word of the letter, Mary immediately dropped to the floor on her knees, and tears began to stream down her face.

Condé casually walked into the room. Upon seeing Mary on the ground, he rushed over to her and helped her stand up. "What's happened?" he asked worriedly.

Mary couldn't speak as tears continued to fall from her eyes. She handed him the note.

"A poisoned arrow is no accident. Maybe it was one of Elizabeth's men..." Condé stated when he finished reading the letter.

"I have to go back to France," Mary told him.

"But Mary, this could be a trick by Elizabeth. She could be luring you back to France where she has her spies to have you murdered!" Condé exclaimed to her.

"If that is true, then he is dying or is already dead because of me," she said severely while more tears threatened to burst from her eyes. "I have to go back. He is my husband."

"A husband that you left over a month ago," Condé reminded her.

"I know, but I still...I still love him," Mary said in a hushed tone, feeling almost guilty to say it.

Hearing those words were painful for him and jealousy surged within him, but he chose to ignore it. "Mary, it isn't safe…" he tried to plead with her.

"It isn't safe for me to go anywhere. I can't let the threat of Elizabeth wanting to harm me scare me from doing what I need to do...It might not even have been one of her spies. It could have been a Frenchman unhappy with Francis' rule or an angry Protestant."

"Mary, I think it was one of Elizabeth's supporters…"

"Why?" Mary questioned him, eyeing him suspiciously. "What do you know? What are you keeping from me?"

Condé hesitated. "...Antoine...Antoine has been in touch with her. Or her supporters at least."

Condé then reached out his hand to grab hold of Mary's, but she was quick to step away from him, out of his reach.

"How long...how long have you known that your brother has been conversing with Elizabeth?" Mary asked him hesitantly, afraid of what he would say.

Condé sighed. "Since before we left for Scotland."

Mary's eyes widened. "All of those letters you've been receiving from Antoine since we've been here, were they about Elizabeth?" she asked.

"Some of them," he reluctantly admitted. "But I didn't respond to any of them! My brother previously told me that Elizabeth wanted me to court her. He was very upset when I chose to come with you here instead. In his latest letter, he alluded that something in France would soon happen that would benefit him and Elizabeth...I didn't think it would be this."

Mary stared at him in disbelief. "How could you not tell me about this?"

"You didn't need to know. I didn't want to pursue Elizabeth. I wanted you. I chose you!" Condé exclaimed.

"If that is true, how could you not tell me that your brother is practically a supporter of my enemy? How do I know you haven't been spying on me for her this whole time? How can I be sure you haven't already been helping her plot my death?"

"Mary, I swear I haven't!" Condé said and stepped towards her, but Mary quickly stepped back again.

"And how exactly would Francis' poisoning benefit Antoine?" Mary asked him.

"Antoine…" Condé began warily. "...he has wanted his revenge on the House of Valois after Henry had our older brother killed and would be happy to see the house die out. If Francis dies, he's most likely plotting to seize control of France."

After a moment of tense silence, Mary finally spoke up again. "Was Antoine the one who actually had Henry poisoned?"

Condé didn't say a word to deny it.

"I defended you to Francis! You lied to me!" Mary yelled. "Francis was right…" she whispered to herself.

"I didn't know Antoine was the one who did it until that dinner when Francis accused us...I had no part in it."

"I don't know what to believe anymore," Mary said as she shook her head. "I can never trust you again. I thought I could have a fresh start with you here in Scotland, but everything has been a lie. Francis may have lied to me, but at least I know it was his way of protecting me. Your lies and secrets were to protect yourself and keep alive the possibility of you marrying Elizabeth and having countries of your own to rule."

"Mary, it isn't like that! I love you," Condé told her vehemently.

"Your words mean nothing to me," she replied severely. "I suggest you leave now before I have my guards escort you out."

"But Mary - "

"LEAVE!" she screamed at him. "And never come back."

"Mary! I - "

"Guards!" Mary exclaimed. "Please escort Louis Condé out of the castle and ensure he never comes back again," she instructed them.

Condé allowed the guards to grab hold of him and didn't bother to resist.

After they left the room, fresh tears continued to spill from Mary's eyes. She had opened her heart to a liar. And now her husband, who she now realized was the only man who ever truly loved her, might be gone forever.

Taking a handkerchief from her desk to wipe her eyes, she prayed that Francis was still alive.

XxxxxxxxxX

A week later, she finally arrived safely back at French court after managing to secretly leave Scotland. When she entered the castle, she was relieved to hear from the servants that Francis was still alive. She headed straight to Francis' chamber.

When she walked in the room, she saw him lying on the bed. His eyes were closed, and his upper body wasn't covered by any clothing. The court physician stood next to him. He turned around when he heard her enter and was a bit startled to see her.

He bowed before her. "Your majesty."

"Will he live?" was all Mary could say, desperate to know if these were Francis' final moments.

"It is still difficult to say. For now, we must wait. I just gave him a potion to help him sleep and alleviate his pain. He may not wake for a few hours," he said.

Mary rushed to Francis' side as the physician left the room. She sat down on the bed and went to grab hold of Francis' hand, but before she could do so, she paused and gasped at the sight of him.

She only had the option of holding on to his right hand as his left hand...was no longer there.

She somehow didn't notice it earlier, but his left shoulder was bandaged with a white cloth that was completely covered in blood.

There was no longer an arm attached to his left shoulder.

"No," Mary whispered. "No, no, no," she continued as tears fell down her cheeks.

She heard the door creak open from behind her, but didn't bother taking her eyes off of Francis to see who had entered. She was in a state of shock.

She felt a warm hand touch her shoulder and looked up to see Catherine's face.

"Catherine," she said said quietly. "What happened?"

"After he was shot by the poisoned arrow, the wound became severely infected and spread throughout his arm. In order to try to prevent the infection from spreading to the rest of his body, the physician had to...amputate his arm," Catherine replied softly as she turned her gaze to her son.

"Do you know who shot the arrow at him?"

"It was a friend of Antoine's...who we also have learned was divulging information about French court to England." she said seriously. "Bash was able to arrest him, and after much, shall we say, 'convincing,' he revealed that his ultimate goal was to bring you back to France and murder you."

Mary wept harder. "I'm so sorry, Catherine...this is all my fault."

After a moment of silence, Catherine spoke. "My dear, after you left for Scotland with Louis Condé, I despised you for leaving my son. Since you'd left, he hadn't been the same and I encouraged him to distract himself and not think of you. And then when this happened…" Catherine paused, tears threatening to escape her eyes. "He's only been awake for short periods of time since he was shot. But in his sleep, he calls out for you...and that was when I knew, my only hope for him to survive this was if you came back to him. I've never been able to fully comprehend it but...you are his life, Mary."

Catherine patted Mary's shoulder before announcing she would be back later and left the room.

Mary stared at Francis' sleeping form and felt at a complete loss as to how she could help him.

She laid down next to him. Careful not to touch his wounded shoulder, she left a little space between them. She did, however, grab hold of his hand and held it as she fell asleep.

"I'm so sorry Francis," she said quietly. "For everything."

And for the first time in a long time, she was able sleep peacefully next to a man without a single nightmare.

XxxxxxxxxX

As sunlight creeped through the windows signaling the start of a new day, Mary felt a hand squeezing hers. Her eyes shot open to find blue ones staring back at her.

"Francis," Mary stated, feeling shocked yet tremendously relieved to see him awake.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked groggily. "Or are you actually here?"

"You're not dreaming, Francis. I am here, my darling." Mary reassured him as she slowly sat up next to him.

"Mary…" he said with a slight smile. He winced as he tried to sit up, but Mary gently held his body down on the bed.

"Don't get up. You'll hurt yourself. How are you feeling?"

"Much better now," he said as his face beamed.

"I should go find the physician…" she said as she moved to gett off of the bed.

"No, Mary...don't go." He reached out his towards in an effort to grab her, but she was already out of his reach.

"But I-"

"Please don't go," he requested again and Mary acquiesced.

"Mary…" He said again as he shook his head in disbelief that she was there beside him. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Francis," she interjected. "Francis, I am so sorry." Tears were welling up in her eyes. "I never should have left. It was stupid of me to go. I was being so selfish. I didn't even consider how your life was at risk by me leaving."

Francis lifted his hand up to caress her face and to wipe away her tears. He was pleased to discover that she didn't shudder at his touch. "I'm sorry for how cruel I was to you when you told me you were going."

"But it was all true...I needed to hear those words," she replied earnestly. She took hold of his hand with both of hers and pulled it to her chest. "When I was in Scotland, I felt...I felt empty. I thought I could start a new life there and leave everything in France behind. But I couldn't. I couldn't forget you and I started to miss you.

"And when your mother wrote to me, telling me you were injured and that you might not live, I was forced to imagine a life where I would never see you again...and I couldn't bear it. I had to come back."

"It wasn't safe for you to come back...a spy for - " Francis tried to speak.

"I know," Mary interrupted him. "But that doesn't matter. It's my fault your...your arm is…" she trailed off, unable to bring herself to say aloud that she was the reason he no longer had a limb. "Francis, if these are our last moments together, you must know that I love you," she suddenly said frenetically. "I love you more than anything in this world and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I've hurt you in so many ways...I'm sorry that you had to fall ill for me to realize that."

"Mary, we've both made mistakes...grave mistakes that have badly harmed each other that we can never take back. But if we're patient, we can carry our burdens together and grow past them," he said, his voice filled with hope.

Mary nodded her head in agreement and smiled through her tears. "Yes...we can."

"If I survive this, I - " he began to say but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and the physician walking in. He went over to the side of the bed to check on Francis and gave him an herbal potion to drink.

The physician looked over at Mary. "I will need to replace the cloths wrapped on his shoulder...you may want to leave the room for this," he advised.

But Mary shook her head and squeezed Francis' hand tighter. "I'm not going anywhere."

The physician nodded, but did ask that she step away so he could apply the new bandages.

She watched intently as he unwrapped the wound...the wound that she had inadvertently caused. Francis tried to contain his cries of pain, but they still escaped him. She saw his inflamed flesh, the blood, and the swelling. Just seeing it made her feel injured herself, in addition to her heart that felt wounded.

She would never be able to forgive herself for this.

After the physician rewrapped Francis' shoulder, he gave him another potion to drink. He gestured to Mary that it was fine for her to come back to the bed. She promptly reclaimed her spot next to Francis and grabbed his hand again.

"The infection shows signs of going away, so I believe you will recover," he announced, causing Mary and Francis' faces to burst into smiles. "I will go inform your mother," he said before leaving the room.

Francis pulled his hand out of Mary's grip and used it to caress her face and wipe away her tears.

"Mary," Francis said solemnly. "If I had never been injured, would you still have come back?"

She seemed lost in thought for a moment before she spoke. "I started realizing my problems didn't disappear when I went to Scotland. My nightmares were getting worse...I missed you. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I did. I found myself wondering what you were doing and what you were feeling. Eventually, it would have been too much for me to take. It might have taken me a little while longer to make my way back here to you because of my stubbornness, but I would have come back," she answered honestly.

Feeling comforted by her answer, his heart swelled with joy. However, there was another question that was plaguing him. "There's something else I must know...I don't want to ask it...but I have to know," Francis said. "About...about Condé…" Francis barely managed to even say the man's name.

"He wasn't the man I thought he was...He wasn't you. I was so wrong to believe he could replace you or that anyone could love me more than you," Mary said earnestly. "You're still the only man I have ever lain with."

Francis felt relieved to hear her answer.

"Francis, I will never again make the mistake of thinking anyone could replace you," Mary explained as she combed her fingers through his golden locks. "I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you and no one else. I'll never leave you again. I will never give up on us."

"I still love you, Mary. Nothing has changed," he reassured her as he stared into her eyes. "I want -" he started to say, but it was muffled as Mary's lips crashed down on to his for a passionate kiss.

A few more kisses later, Mary laid herself next to him and let her head rest on his chest, listening to every breath he took.

When he noticed that Mary was lying on the side of him where he no longer had an arm, a troubling thought crossed Francis' mind. "I may have lost a limb, but I have you here. My happiness of your coming far exceeds the pain of the loss. My only sorrow is that I will never be able to properly hold you in my arms again, my darling," he told her sadly.

Laying her arm across his torso, Mary replied, "Well, you'll never have to worry about holding onto me to keep me close, my dear husband, for I will be at your side always."

* * *

**A/N: **Yeah, so basically I think Francis has to flippin' lose a limb in order for Mary to go back to him at this point on _Reign_, haha. Basically, I feel like Mary has to inadvertently cause him major pain just like how he did to her for her to truly understand how much Francis has been suffering!

Apologies if this seemed a bit rushed, but it was kinda designed to just be little snippets of things so that way Frary could get back together within the span of a oneshot! Man, those two just are so messed up right now...they have so much they need to talk through...I really hope they reunite very, very soon on the show.

Also, just FYI, this oneshot was named after Kelly Clarkson's song "Run Run Run" from her latest album. I think the song fits the fic pretty well, so go listen to it!

Hope you all enjoyed the fic! Review to let me know you read it! And feel free to rant about the current state of Frary if you feel like you need to get it out of your system or just want to talk about it...we can feel tortured by this show together! Haha :)

Thanks so much for reading!


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